Chamber of Secrets: Slytherin's Second Heir
by Prof3ss3r Marsi
Summary: AU. After Harry saves Justin Professor Snape contests Harry's placement in Gryffindor and wins. Now Harry must fight to save the school and survive the one house that hates him. But as the year goes on Harry learns that Slytherin is not what he thought.
1. The Worst Thing Since Voldemort

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of it's characters and am in no way affiliated with J.K. Rowling, Warner Brothers or anybody else for that matter. I'm trying to get back into writing after some personal issues and a whole bunch of stuff, so I dusted off some of my older fanfics that never got published. I do own the plot, well the AU idea at least, it still kind of follows the book. Sarah who will appear in later chapters is my character. I know that Professor Snape is not cannon at all, but hey, it's fanfiction.**

**This is an alternate universe in which Professor Snape takes a more active role in the situation.**

Harry once again found himself looking around at everyone who was once again looking at him as though he was some kind of monster, due to the "rescue" of Justin, which exposed his parseltongue, the gift he did not even realize he had.

It was sometime after lunch when Professor McGonagall had stopped him in the hall.

"Mr. Potter, Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor Snape," she said the name with some contempt, "And myself would like to see you in the headmaster's office just before dinner."

"Of course, uhm, I've never been there before Professor-" Harry found himself cut off as she raised her hand.

"I will come and collect you at the appointed time, try not to leave the common room, after five o'clock."

It was just after six thirty when the professor came to collect Harry. The walk to the headmaster's office was quiet and something hung in the air, something that shouldn't have been there it felt like. Harry could not help but shiver as they walked along the empty corridor, he wondered why there was no one there, but of course everyone was probably studying, though it did feel strange. He stopped and as if sensing it Professor McGonagall turned around.

"Is there a problem Mr. Potter?"

"Professor, what's going on, have I done something?" She sighed and stopped right in front of him.

"No, you have done nothing wrong; this is simply a waste of time, albeit an important one," she turned, "Now come along."

Harry sat in the chair facing Headmaster Dumbledore with the two Professors on either side of him.

"Harry, has Professor McGonagall told you why you have been brought here?"

"No sir, she just said that I had to come, she didn't say why." Harry looked at her nervously, and then back to the headmaster.

"I see, just as I instructed." He was quiet for a moment.

"Now then, Severus, perhaps you would like to open with the explanation as to why we are here." Professor Snape stood up and after looking briefly at Harry out of his right eye he faced forward.

"Headmaster I wish to do something that has not been done for some time in the history of Hogwarts, and that is to contest the placement of a student in their house." Harry's eyes widened and he looked to Professor McGonagall who stared straight ahead. Harry sat back in his chair; of course, Professor McGonagall would sort the whole thing out.

"On what grounds Severus," Dumbledore's voice was quiet as he asked the question.

"The boy obviously has a trait that is a sign of one of our founders, parseltongue is an important attribute of our founder Salazar Slytherin, and any student who possesses such a gift should be in his house. And seeing as Potter is only excelling in Quidditch in his current house, one wonders if it doesn't have something to do with his environment." Professor McGonagall stood up and Professor Snape raised a hand.

"I simply mean to say that if Potter belongs in Slytherin, than his current Gryffindor environment may not be suited to his needs. Not to mention that last year and earlier this year Harry's life has been in danger and that perhaps being in Gryffindor has somehow contributed to this." Snape looked at Harry and he stared back.

"Harry." Harry's head whipped forward.

"Sorry Professor, uhm, what were you saying?"

"What do you think of the validity of Professor Snape's argument?"

"No, none of it is true, I mean, yes I am apparently a parselmouth, but I'm not doing very badly in my classes, and as for last year, well that had to do with Voldemort mostly, and almost nothing to do with the fact that I'm a gryffindor. And as for grades if that is an issue," he stopped as Dumbledore held up his hand.

"Calm yourself Harry, it is all right."

"I hardly think so." Professor McGonagall rose. "If I may Headmaster Dumbledore, we must to a certain extent consider Potter's welfare. The slytherin house is hardly a suitable place for someone who is not in the best graces of the house, in particular the older members of the quidditch team, not that I would suggest they would ever intentionally severely harm Mr. Potter, and it is entirely possible; accidents happen."

"I must consent that Minerva has an excellent point Severus."

"Hardly, I have all ready consulted quite privately with my house, and I will do so again, I have been given the utmost assurances from my entire house that such an incident would not happen. They will be nothing but gracious to the young Mr. Potter on his arrival to the Slytherin House."

Harry was feeling sick to his stomach at this particular moment, he wished nothing more than to lie down. He felt any minute now that he would puke or pass out, maybe even both. Before either could come to fruition Professor McGonagall once again came to the rescue.

"Professor Snape may make whatever suggestions he likes, but the most basic fact is that he was sorted into gryffindor, and no argument can counter that."

"Which is why," turning to Professor McGonagall he stated "I would like to ask the sorting hat its opinion. It sorted Potter, and is certain to be able to provide something fruitful to this conversation one way or another." He turned to Harry as he said the last bit and Harry swallowed, he was done for. As if Professor Snape could read his mind he was going to do the one thing he'd wanted to avoid. All turned to the sorting hat.

Harry lay in the bed covered up as much as possible, perhaps this was all a horrible nightmare. Perhaps he would wake up in the morning and it would all be over, all be different, perhaps he would see that this was just a dream. He closed his eyes and curled up to himself, willing and wishing with all his being that when he woke up this would all be some sort of nightmare, just like he hoped. But when Harry tentatively poked his head out, the bed covers were still green, the curtains were still green, and from the bed frame to the architecture itself, he was still in the Slytherin common room. Specifically the sleeping quarters, and there next to his bed, was Draco Malfoy's trunk. Harry lay back wanting to cry, vomit, scream, and laugh all at the same time. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do first, although truth been told, he didn't want to do any of them. For the first time Harry questioned Dumbledore and his time at Hogwarts. This was sure to be worse than Dudley, this was sure to be worse than anything he'd ever experienced. And even though Professor McGonagall's words echoed through his head he found little comfort in them.

"You see Potter; this is a chance to prove just how much of a Gryffindor you are. Adversity is the part of life which makes us strong, you are sure to come out of this back in Gryffindor even more sure of your place than you ever were before." Harry sighed.

Today was Saturday and he would have some time before word spread through the school, maybe he could at least eat breakfast without anything unusual, although everyone all ready thought he was petrifying muggle borns, what would they think of this? Harry shook his head as he got dressed, he wasn't sure he'd ever been so nervous in all his life, and all he was doing, was going down to breakfast.


	2. Hostility is in the Air

The one good thing about it being the weekend was he didn't have to yet wear his school uniform, the green tie sitting there leering at him. He walked through the corridors, quite empty, but the day was still early. He hesitated before the great hall, he couldn't do it, it wasn't exactly fear he just couldn't do it. He'd wait till lunch, when he'd be too hungry to notice the whole of the school staring at him. He nodded, that would be the best option. Harry turned around quickly deciding he would run off to the owlery to see Hedwig. Maybe he'd even get her some treats from his trunk. Harry fell as he bumped into something he stood up and gave a quick apology and turning to leave felt his arm grabbed.

"No, no Harry, I'm sorry," Harry stopped and looked up trying not to appear apprehensive "I should pay more attention to where I'm going. Of course, you're so small you can be hard to see sometimes; even if you are the famous Harry Potter."

Marcus Flint stood there looking down at Harry, still holding him by the arm Harry wanted to open his mouth but stopped. It wasn't his size, although he was considerably larger than Harry, it was the look in his eyes. He wasn't mean, or threatening, he was just there, actually he look pleased to some extent. But on reflection, Harry felt he should be concerned because Slytherins had very few reasons to be happy when it involved someone they weren't terrorizing, and Harry had a lot coming to him.

"Sorry Marcus, can't help it being twelve and all, well I'll just be going."

"Now Harry, you haven't had breakfast yet, surely you'll be hungry."

"Not afraid to enter the great hall are you Potter?"

"No." Harry stated slightly annoyed. "I simply have something better to do. I want to go see Hedwig."

"Yes, _Terence_," Marcus gave Terence Higgs a foul look and turned back to Harry. "Of course, you won't be able to grab anything to eat until lunch Harry, I'm sure you'd like to grab a bite before you see her, maybe take something along. I understand that she is rather fond of toast, why don't we grab something to eat and you can take her some toast." Before Harry could say another word, or ask Flint to let him go, the door opened. Marcus looked up like a snarling lion ready to growl when he stopped. Harry didn't know who was behind him, but judging from the look on his face, it wasn't anyone helpful. Harry had a feeling he knew who was there, and it was confirmed with the superior drawl, although lacking its usual acidity.

"Ah, there you are." Harry turned around enough to see it was Draco, but with Pansy instead of Crabbe and Goyle.

"We were just going upstairs to see if you would come and join us." Pansy said in what Harry imagined was meant to be nice, though still pompous tone. Although supposed Harry, it was hard not to be pompous, being the way they were. Marcus let him go, probably because he was surrounded by Slytherins.

"Harry was going to go up to the owlery, but we've convinced him to have some breakfast first." Bletchley chimed in.

"Ooh, do you have a parcel or a letter to send?" Pansy asked excitedly. She was always one for gossip and news. And this would certainly be the top news of the day. Harry shrugged.

"No, I was just going to see Hedwig."

"Oh, how sweet of you." She said smiling. "I myself have to send a birthday present to my sister, and Draco of course has a letter for his father, we can all go up together and introduce ourselves, properly." Harry nodded and smiled giving his thanks. Professor Snape's words came to mind.

"Now Potter I have spoken with my house and they will be nothing less than polite to you, unless you give them reason. Unlike Gryffindor respect here has to be earned, your past achievements though noteworthy to some mean little here. So were I you, I would tread lightly and try not to act so…superior."

Harry was somewhat shocked; Professor Snape was actually…nice, at least as far as Professor Snape's standards.

"Excellent, you can of course sit next to us." When they entered the Great Hall Harry suddenly understood what all the fuss was about. The Slytherins were smiling and some were even saying hello very loudly. Harry understood when he saw the faces on the students at the other tables, they were gloating. Particularly in the area of quidditch Harry thought looking at Marcus Flint, Gryffindor stood less of a chance than they ever had before. They wanted to gloat and what better way than to do it publicly. Harry sighed; it was going to be a long seven months. A very long one if this morning was anything to go by. But there was nothing he could do, after all, he was surrounded by people who not only didn't fight fair, but were three and four times his size. He was in a house full of bullies, he had to tread carefully, and that meant watching his temper and what he said.

Harry was so depressed he could have died. Nobody wanted to talk to him. To everyone he was the heir of Slytherin, not even Ron or Hermione spoke to him. They tried, but nobody would let them get near enough, Harry started talking to Draco simply because he and his fellow Slytherins were the only ones who didn't hate Harry and believed that he was not the heir of Slytherin. But of course none of them were really his friends. Harry felt like he was at the Dursleys again.

It didn't take long for everyone Harry had ever known to break off ties with him. Not even Fred and George who had found the Slytherin's Heir bit a big joke spoke to him. Actually, the only people who were speaking to him were the Slytherins, and the things they talked about Harry didn't understand or disagreed with wholeheartedly. He was polite, but he just slowly began to avoid the conversations, because twice he had all ready lost his temper. He didn't say anything; rather he excused himself and disappeared for a while. He was beginning to realize that he had nothing anymore and for the first time he could ever remember he wished he was going to number four pivet drive. At least there he knew where he belonged, he hated where he belonged, but at least he knew. It was turning into a nightmare, and Harry had a feeling it wasn't over yet.


	3. Head over Broomstick

Harry had thought he was prepared for anything as time went on, being ignored, the hostile looks, being treated like a monster. He wasn't enjoying it, but he was getting used to it. He ran through his brain anything he could think of to help him find the real heir of Slytherin, so far he had nothing. He desperately wanted to ask Hermione but he could never get close to her. And as much as he didn't want to face it, it just didn't seem like she wasn't trying very hard to talk to him. And though the wound of losing Ron and Hermione grew deeper there was one thing that Harry just wasn't prepared for. He was beginning to receive… threats. And then there were some of the older Gryffindors and even a few hufflepuffs. They were actually bullying Harry, and Harry stared dumbfounded after them. He packed up his books and took a long about route to the common room, hoping to clear his head. He couldn't explain why, but he just wasn't prepared for that.

Madam Pomfrey fixed his nose, and Harry thanked her. She didn't seem to believe him when he said he'd run into a door, but she didn't pry, even she seemed to be slightly unwilling to touch him. If Harry could have left he might have, but Harry knew better. And why should it matter, now Hogwarts was simply just like the Dursleys, he should be used to this kind of thing. But he wasn't, and lately he actually found himself close to tears, he never did cry, that was all the Slytherins needed. There was probably only one good thing, being partnered up with Draco Harry was actually doing quite well in Potions. He found without the animosity between him and the professor, he could actually learn something, and much to his disbelief, he enjoyed potions.

Harry walked out having earned Slytherin ten points for answering a question and mixing his roots correctly. It was something and something was better to focus on then what had happened, and what was going to happen. The Christmas holidays were around the corner, and he found himself lonelier than ever. Only earlier this year he had been with the Weasleys and enjoying himself in the most wonderful house he'd never even dreamed of, now he was wondering if he'd even be acknowledged by them. He shrugged, last year he'd received a sweater and some other gifts, he would just have to accept those were the last gifts he would ever receive.

He went to bed after watching a somewhat boring game of Wizard's Chess, Ron was much better. At least tomorrow was Saturday, and that meant he could go flying, tomorrow was also a quidditch practice for Slytherin. Harry had been invited to watch, possibly to gloat that he would no longer be playing quidditch that year, or possibly as nothing more than a friendly invitation, although knowing Slytherins it was probably both. Either way, Harry hadn't yet decided on whether or not he was going to go. But he could certainly use it as an excuse to get out; he planned on doing some flying. Oh yes, he very much planned on flying tomorrow. It was the only thing he had, everything seemed to vanish when he flew, and everything disappeared. He fell into an easy sleep and dreamed of flying, flying through the Hogwarts corridors chasing something. No he was being chased, no it was both. He was chasing a strange voice, a hissing voice, like what he had heard that night, and he was being chased by something else, he couldn't hear it, or see it. He felt it, an unseen force that grew closer and closer until Harry opened his eyes and sat up. It was two in the morning, after a glass of water he slipped into a dreamless sleep waking to the sounds of late morning and dressing rapidly and heading for breakfast, after which he decided to go flying. He would forgo the invitation to watch the other Slytherins fly, and he would spend as long as he could out of the reach of everyone in the whole castle. He might even drop by to see Hagrid; perhaps he would have something of a pleasant conversation with him at least. Surely Hagrid couldn't have abandoned him too.

Before anyone could even reach him, he was gone; zooming away on his broomstick flying as fast as he could. Escaping the claustrophobic clutches of Hogwarts, he darted over the trees and glided over parts of the forbidden forest, the trees packed too densely together to see if anything was going on. Not that Harry really wanted to. He dove over the far end of black lake and pulled out his shoes just brushing the thin layer of ice that had grown over the lake. And quite temporarily everything was all right. He could breathe, all his problems seemed miles away. He spent several hours just flying, swerving and rolling, flying out farther than he had last year, around the forested mountain area that his true home was located in. He sat on his broom hovering looking at the castle. As always it called to him, it was the only real home he had ever known. He stared at it and he came to a decision. Whatever there was left of the quidditch practice, he would go see. If not, he would apologize, he was in Slytherin now, and moping about what he had lost, would not help his situation or how he felt. Perhaps he had gained very little, but it was better to appreciate what he had gained, than what he had lost. With the air having cleared his head he flew down to see what was going on at the quidditch pitch. As it turned out, practice was going on, judging from how they were flying, it hadn't been on long.

If anyone noticed him, they hadn't said, but they didn't seem to notice anything besides the field and the yelling of Marcus Flint as he drilled out orders, reamed out reprimands and offered a momentary reward. He was a task master, Harry stared though as it seemed Draco was getting most of the reaming. He wondered why, he wasn't any better or worse than the other fliers. It made him curious, as Harry watched he was under the impression, from what Marcus would yell from time to time that maybe Draco had misrepresented himself. As the thought occurred to him, Harry watched in disbelief as Draco was in the process of making a very dangerous mistake.

"Draco be careful!" he yelled too late. Draco's broom spun out of control and Harry dove in after it. As Draco screamed for help Harry pulled up beside Draco and grabbed his broomstick handle.

"Draco, shut up!" his head snapped to Harry. "Accelerate." Draco leaned forward. "SLOWLY!" he turned toward Harry, "build up your speed, match me." Draco wobbly, followed and sure enough he regained control and Harry let go long enough for him to land. Harry was about to descend when he felt a great force hit him in the back and tumbling over his broomstick landed on the ground with a thud. There was a loud scream, from a girl it sounded like, and there were several shouts. He tried to sit up only to be pushed back down. Slowly the sounds around him started to make since.

"Mark my words! Professor Snape will hear about this!" A girl with her blonde hair tousled about from running screamed up to one of the towers. Another girl, older, a brunette was in front of Harry. She took his glasses and he heard a muttered 'reparo' and found them placed back on his face. She was quite pretty and Harry could rarely remember seeing her.

"You all right Harry?" she asked. Harry nodded and laid back down, he didn't feel good.

"Is he all right?"

"That was a large fall Pansy, at least ten feet in the air."

"He didn't fall Daphne, he was blasted, and I'm sure it was higher than that."

"Will the two of you shut up?" Harry opened his eyes just a bit, it was the brunette again. "It looks to be about twelve feet and it doesn't matter. What we need to do is get him to Madam Pomfrey immediately."

"Relax Sarah, I think at most he's had the wind knocked out of him. Not much more, well, a nasty bump. But if you're so worried I'll take him to the hospital wing." Harry went to sit up but just at that moment he vomited and blacked out completely.


	4. Chin Up

"Okay, so maybe I made a slight mistake."

"A slight mistake, about a twelve year old you overgrown cave dwelling Cyclops," Harry struggled with the voices till he realized who it was. The brunette had just insulted Marcus Flint. Whoever she was, he was beginning to like her.

"Here you go."

"Thank you Daphne, I'm sure Harry will appreciate the gesture."

"He is all right isn't he?"

"Of course it's nothing too bad." Madam Pomfrey had bustled in. "That's it, I've had enough, I'm telling the Headmaster about this, I had my doubts about the matter but I've come to a solid conclusion. I'm discussing this with the Headmaster and Professor Snape. Some of the worst bullying I've ever seen. Something has to be done about it."

"How did I get here?" Harry sat up slowly and shook his head.

"Take it easy there Potter," Marcus said, but it was actually sincere, not condescending. "You had a nasty fall." Harry found his glasses beside him on the table and put them on.

"What hit me?" Marcus shook his head.

"Stunning charm, could've been trying to blow up or smash the broom, or you, too many possibilities. Same for who could've cast it, but don't worry, we've told Professor Snape and he'll deal with the culprit, he's personally investigating the incident himself."

"It was a Gryffindor wasn't it?" Flint stared at Harry for a moment. He shrugged his shoulders and replied nonchalantly.

"Won't know till the Professor finishes the investigation and locates the culprit, at any rate, you need to rest," Marcus picked up the Nimbus 2000 lying on Harry's bed.

"Nice broom, you're lucky it came out intact." He placed it back and sat down. He flicked his head toward the girl who had been insulting him and Harry took this moment to look her over. She was obviously older, with long brown hair and was slim. She carried herself as though she were a very important person, although not with arrogance. It reminded him of the royal family. She carried herself like them, and she had just the right amount of color to her, and she had a pleasant voice, not wheezy or so high pitched it hurt the ears. It was light and airy, and she was quick to move. She also seemed very restrained; by the looks she was throwing at Marcus she wanted to strangle him. She caught Harry looking and smiled coming over to him.

"Are you all right?" Harry nodded.

"Thank you; uh thank you very much…" She held out her hand to Harry and smiled a large genuine smile.

"Sarah, Sarah Willoughby." Harry smiled in return and shook her hand. The door opened and she turned, as Professor Snape came down she ran up to him.

"Miss Willoughby I have no answers as far as to what has happened. I wish to speak with Potter, kindly go and fetch Professor McGonagall would you."

"Naturally."

"Bye Sarah," Harry waved and she smiled waving back to him. She gracefully ran out and Harry turned to the Professor.

"I can only assume you're all right Mr. Potter?" Harry turned to him and was silent for a few moments.

"I think the worst injury I have is to my pride, I think, I don't feel anything, although I'm not in any mood to get out of bed." He answered honestly shrugging. "Was it from Gryffindor Tower?" Professor Snape looked at him and nodded.

"Having investigated the scene of the attack I can ascertain the most likely place of attack was in fact from Gryffindor Tower although this hardly seems to surprise you."

"Well, let's just say there are some hard feelings going about from that direction."

"Couple of others way I hear it." Marcus said looking at Harry for the first time mildly impressed. But of what Harry was left to ponder for Professor McGonagall came running in demanding to know what had happened and the full details from Harry, witnesses, Professor Snape and an hour and a quarter later was on her way herself to see the scene of the crime. All Harry was thinking was that his bed was nice and comfy and he had no interest in doing anything other than sleeping.

Harry was out in a couple days, his mood somewhere between better and still bad. He'd been in the hospital wing for about three days, and had received several visitors from Slytherin house, but not a single soul from Gryffindor, with the exception of Ginny, who gave him a handmade car that sang shrilly unless he kept it under a bowl. But Harry had left it open several times, because she, the little girl who barely spoke to him, who was his…. Ron's little sister. She was the only one who came to see him, and even now as he was headed down the corridor, he heard his name.

"Harry!" she was on the stairs and waved at him.

"Ginny, come on." Harry could not see the speaker; he guessed it to be a first year.

"Bye Harry." She waved goodbye to him and ran off.

"Harry." Harry smiled, the musical voice that reached him could only come from Sarah Willoughby; the charming Slytherin he had met. "There you are, we've been wondering about you, when you were coming out." Harry looked behind her and she laughed. "Draco and Daphne and Pansy are upstairs with the quidditch team. All of us have been worried about you."

"Thank you." He said, she offered her hand and Harry took it, it felt strange holding someone's hand, he hadn't done it since he was very young. And he had only done it a few times, he should have felt he was too old, he was twelve after all. But as depressed as he was feeling, there was a measure of security, a strange sense of unforetold happy endings in holding the hand of the older Slytherin girl, the one who had smiled at him and taken a sort of shine, even though he knew next to nothing about her, and she the same. He had questioned her motives before, and even now that feeling swam up, but he squashed it down when he remembered that it was she who had yelled at Marcus, and she who came late at night, and she who had helped him yesterday with his assignments.

"Sarah, I wanted to thank you, for helping me with my homework yesterday…" She dropped his hand cutting him off.

"I forgot," she reached in her bag and pulled out a book, similar to Hermione, she always carried books; he had learned from a briefly quiet snide comment from Bletchley to Terrence that she was probably the smartest girl in Slytherin. Of course Marcus heard and shut him up.

"And how the hell did you pass your exams last year you great twat. At least show some respect, lord knows she bailed us out of enough jams, just how many points do you think we'd have lost if not for her?" Harry could hear no more as she had come over and given Bletchley and Terence a look of utter disinterest in their presence. She had talked shortly with Marcus and then sat down with Harry. Sarah seemed… different.

"Here," Harry stared at the book; it was a potions book of some kind.

"It belonged to my uncle, it'll be helpful for you with potions, any subject but that can be your weakest, although you want to be above average in all of them, but especially potions." Harry nodded thinking back to last year when Hermione had detected which bottle was not poisonous, and there again was that pang for his friends.

"Harry?" He looked up she looked worried. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, oh yes, it's just, uh, Ron and Hermione." He finished, she nodded.

"If they don't want to be friends with you, just accept it, not everyone is so open minded, or clear headed as _some_ of us." Harry chuckled.

"Only a great idiot would think you were the heir of Slytherin." She said a little loudly, and as Harry looked he could see several students on the stairs and in the hall way watching. Harry looked up gathering his bravery.

"Thank you Sarah, I'm glad someone believes in me." He didn't say it as loud as Sarah, but his voice carried just the same, though he did feel a pang of regret as he could see the clearly curly mass of hair that could only be Hermione duck her head down and run down the hall. Sarah also saw, but her head was held high as they ascended the stairs.

"Chin up Harry." At first he thought she meant metaphorically but when she looked at him he squared his shoulders and put his chin up. She coached him a little more o his posture as they climbed the stairs.

"Always remember Harry, walk as though nothing can touch you, you are lighter than air, you are important, though do not expect to be treated as such, for the superior way is to simply be superior and excuse all the little things those beneath you could not possibly understand."

"Kind of like not sinking to someone's level?" he asked which earned him a smile.

"Exactly," was her only reply.

Sarah insisted on getting him some fresh air and dragging him around to ensure he was all right. He also found himself shoved up to the library where they finished studying.

"Won't Draco be worried?" Harry asked. Sarah looked up.

"Oh no, I expect he'll be put out, but hardly worried." She smiled. "Of course, the great git might be, no one ever said he was the smartest of the bunch." Harry wanted to laugh, but oddly he couldn't. He could no longer crack jokes at the expense of the only person who actually spoke to him. So, he did what was second nature, hoping he wouldn't regret it.

"You shouldn't make fun of him you know." Sarah looked up at him. "I mean, Draco may not be the nicest person in the world, but he is smart, not as smart as you, but that doesn't mean you should make fun of him." Sarah simply smiled at him, for some reason she seemed delighted.

"Well, thank you for that defense." Harry turned to where Draco sat down. "Not the most articulate argument I've heard, but the most honest, so I guess it really does mean more."

"I think it was brilliant." Harry smiled and turned.

"Thank you very much Daphne." She smiled and sat down while Pansy droned on about something.

"At least she doesn't sound like a pug." Harry muttered. Daphne burst out laughing and covered her mouth as Madam Pince came around the corner, Harry quietly laughed along with her, and at her face which was red as a tomato. She finally calmed down and pointed an accusing finger at Harry who simply smiled and shrugged. Draco, looking confused, pointedly asked what was so funny. Harry looked to Daphne who shook her head and tried to prevent another bout of laughter. Draco looked everywhere, and while looking for their source of amusement failed to notice the sever stare from Sarah.

"I shall have the both of you know, that she is nothing like a pug." They stopped laughing at her tone. She continued with a slight gleam and failed to hide her smile.

"My Priscilla is a pedigree and acts nothing like her at all." It was Harry's turn to burst out laughing and be shushed by the severely angered Madam Pince. Daphne turned to Harry and smiled, earning a smile back. It was the first time in a while Harry had actually genuinely smiled, and it felt good. Daphne seemed like a genuinely good person, so did Sarah. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all.


End file.
